The Rain
by Julesaj11
Summary: Even after Rapunzel's return to the palace, the King is still wary of Flynn Rider, the thief who has stolen his daughter's heart.  CHAPTER 4: Flynn must attend his lessons to become the future prince of Corona, but it won't be without some rebellion.
1. The Rain

I love this movie. Too much.

My first try at a tangled ff. Enjoy :)

*O*O*O*O*O

Three days following the return of the princess, rain began to fall over the kingdom of Corona. The King and Queen gazed out the large library windows, their eyes fixed on the forms of their daughter and the ex-thief as they played in the downpour.

"Perhaps we should give them privacy," the Queen said quietly, laying a small hand on her husbands' arm. "They don't know we're watching."

"I don't trust him," the King replied, his voice hard. His fixed his glare on the bandit.

Outside, Rapunzel had taken the thief's hands. The pair spun and twirled around each other as if engaged in a fast paced dance, lifting their heads and smiling into the rain.

"He returned our daughter," the Queen kindly pointed out, raising her eyebrows.

The King shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Hoping for a reward, no doubt."

He turned his head and examined the two of them again. Pirouetting and leaping, Rapunzel moved swiftly, laughing wildly. The thief was close behind her, playfully reaching out to grab her waist and spin her in a quick circle.

"Has he asked for a reward?" asked the Queen.

"He will," he assured her. "Of course he will."

A screech came from outside, heard even through the pounding rain and the thick window. The King and Queen's head both snapped toward their daughter, concerned for her safety. But their worries were unnecessary. Rapunzel had cried out as the bandit lifted her off the ground and over his shoulder, spinning her around and around.

"He's a bad influence on her. Look at them, they're acting like barbarians."

"I think you have it backwards," the Queen replied, a knowing grin on her lips. Looking pleased, she sent her husband a quick wink.

"What do you mean?"

The sound of their daughters' laughter filled their ears again, this time accompanied by the sound of the bandit's amused chuckles. The King gazed steadily at the couple, absorbing their every move. Rider was watching Rapunzel with a bright, glowing smile, as if she were the sun and the moon, and everything good in the word. He was gazing at his daughter as if...

"I think it is Rapunzel who as been affecting _him_, darling," said the Queen.

"Rapunzel is naive. She doesn't understand."

The Queen smirked. "I think she understands him better than any of us."

He scowled. "You can't be serious. You approve of this robber? Do you not understand the crimes he has committed? Three days ago Flynn Rider had a price of ten thousand crowns on his head, and now he's staying in the palace like passing royalty and frolicking in the gardens with my daughter like he―!"

"He loves her."

At that, the King froze, at a lost for words. Flynn Rider, infamous thief, in love with the princess? Such a thing seemed too convenient to be coincidence. So this had been his plan all along... to worm his way into the affections of the royal family? All the riches in the world would be at his finger tips.

"Look," said the Queen, sensing her husbands' thoughts. "See the way they look at each other."

The King knew what she meant, of course. He was not blind, and the thief had made no attempt to hide his feelings. Wherever Rapunzel was, Flynn Rider was undoubtedly close behind, smiling at her with that silly grin. They acted like children, running around the palace from one thing to another, racing each other through the halls. This sort of behavior seemed understandable for their daughter, being that she'd spent her life trapped in a tower. But Rider, too, was embracing it all. He was beside her as she discovered everything, explaining how it worked and why people used it.

He looked out the window again. Rider was holding her wrist, slowing her to a stop. But she didn't slow down. Crashing into his chest, the pair fell down onto the muddy ground, Rapunzel laying on top of him.

"This isn't civilized behavior," the King declared.

The Queen only laughed. "Civilized? She's only been in society for a few days, darling."

"But Rider knows that. He's taking advantage of her innocence―"

His words ran dry in his mouth as he looked upon his daughter again, still laying across the bandit's chest in the mud. She reached a hand out, gingerly brushing the wet hair away from his forehead. Then, hovering over him, she lowered her lips to his for a gentle kiss.

"I think Eugene will be staying for a while," the Queen whispered.

The King teared his gaze away from the couples' embrace. "He really loves her, doesn't he?"

She grinned. "Without a shadow of a doubt."

"And if he does stay?" he asked uncertainly. "You think he's changed? You think a thief can become a Prince Consort?"

"I think Eugene has many qualities that are quite admirable," said the Queen. "Of course, he is very brave and courageous."

"Cocky, you mean," interrupted the King.

"He is also extremely honest," she continued.

"A bandit, _honest?_" he countered sarcastically.

"Darling, you can't still believe that Eugene is no better than the common bandit."

He laughed. "Of course not. He's ten times worse than the common bandit."

Outside, Rapunzel and the bandit in question sat side by side, whispering quietly to each other, their faces close. He touched her short brunette hair, ruffling it playfully. Rapunzel laughed again, shooing his hand away. As he lowered his arm, she grabbed it between her hands, brining his fingers to her lips.

"Hmmph," hummed the King. "She does seem to be quite fond of him."

"Yes, darling," said the queen.

"I want a vase to be placed outside of his bedchambers. Gold, and encrusted with emeralds and rubies. Something a thief could never refuse."

"If you insist," the Queen sighed, her eyes laughing. "I don't think it's necessary to test him, darling."

"Well I do insist," he declared. "If this Fitzherbert boy is going to marry my daughter, I want to know he's a decent fellow."

She laughed, walking over to her husband and laying her cheek against his arm. "Of course, my love."

*O*O*O*O*O*

Leave a review if you can. Thank you for reading.


	2. The Vase

The King's gaze moved over the length of the humongous dining room table, first to his wife who sat at the opposite side, then to his daughter in the middle, and finally to Flynn Rider, who sat across from her. Rider seemed reasonably uncomfortable, obviously aware of the hawk-like eyes watching him.

"Did you have a pleasant sleep, Eugene?" asked the Queen, her graceful voice floating across the table.

The thief cleared his throat awkwardly, keeping his eyes down at his plate. "Yes, your Majesty."

Rapunzel smiled enthusiastically, spreading butter across her muffin. "I've never seen so many pillows on a bed. What are they all for?"

"Well..." the Queen paused, looking deep in thought. Then she laughed heartily. "Truly, I have no idea."

"Decoration, I suppose," the King added, cutting into his egg. Then he looked back at the bandit. "You gonna eat, Rider?"

Rider flinched at the sound of his own name. Then he glanced at his empty plate. "Yes, your Highness," he answered, his voice docile. He grabbed at the bowl of porridge in front of him and used his spoon to throw a decent sized glob onto his plate. Setting his spoon back down, he made no move to eat it. Instead, his anxious gaze settled on Rapunzel, who was adding syrup to her pancakes in the shape of a smiley face.

The King watched Riders' grin appear at the site of his daughter. That foolish, ridiculous, utterly smitten grin. Across the table, the Queen gave him a pointed look, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

Rapunzel, unaware of her audience, was taking a hash-brown between her fingers and holding it close to her face, examining the little green specks of seasoning.

"It doesn't bite, Blondie," Rider chuckled.

Rapunzel blushed, immediately stuffing the piece of potato into her mouth and swallowing thickly, putting her hands back at her sides. She looked hastily at her parents. "Uh, sorry, it's just that I've―,"

"There's nothing to apologize for," the Queen soothed.

The breakfast continued in silence. Rapunzel seemed flustered and embarrassed, while Rider continued to squirm in his seat, uneasy under the Kings' watchful eyes.

Finally, Rapunzel could take it no more. "May I be excused?" She barely waited for the Queens' murmured yes before pushing her chair back noisily and rushing for the large double doors.

Silence fell over the three remaining diners as the door was closed again. Rider coughed awkwardly. "Um, maybe I should go see if she's alright..." He looked at the Queen uncertainly.

"That would be very kind of you, Eugene," she answered, nodding her head. "I think Rapunzel will want you."

The bandit heedlessly pushed his untouched food away and stood. With an unpracticed half bow, he quickly addressed the King and Queen before hurrying away.

Once again, the monarchs found themselves eating breakfast in much the same way as they had for eighteen years. The Queen set down her fork and knife neatly on her plate, looking less than pleased. "Darling, you're frightening them."

He shrugged widely, looking confused. "What did I do?"

"You were staring at Eugene threateningly."

He shrugged again. "And so?"

The Queens eyes hardened. "And so, everyone must feel uncomfortable. Rapunzel has only been back for a few days. Couldn't you be a bit more welcoming?"

"I love my daughter," he argued.

"And she loves Eugene. You must accept this."

The King grumbled gruffly, grabbing his knife and stabbing with unnecessary force at his omelet. "I still don't trust him."

In a most informal fashion, the Queen rolled her eyes. "Has the vase disappeared yet, darling?"

He gripped his knife more firmly, his knuckles turning white. "No. He's bidding his time."

"Or perhaps he doesn't plan to steal it?"

He ignored this. "Or perhaps he knows that it is a test. Rider's smarter than I've given him credit for."

Frustrated, the Queen stood from her seat, leaving her unfinished breakfast. "I think I've lost my appetite. I'll be in my parlor."

The King rubbed at his temple as his wife stormed off. He hated to have her mad with him. But she simply didn't understand. She had always been a trusting, forgiving woman, and he loved her for it. But some people did not deserve instant trust. The Queen had not been the one to issue hundreds of wanted posters across the kingdom. She had not been the one to listen everyday as villagers and guards alike complained that Rider had struck again.

With this thought, he rose from his chair. He would only walk past Eugene's bedchambers for a moment, only to see if the vase was still there. Rider could not resist such a valuable item for long. And the King know the instant he caved and took it.

But as he casually strolled through the hall, glancing at the table in the hall across from Rider's room, he saw that the golden vase he had planted there as bait still glistened proudly in its spot, untouched.

Disappointed, he continued down the hall, only to stop behind a corner as the sound of two voices floated toward him.

"Eugene, this is silly. My mother adores you."

"Your father? Not so adoring."

The King nearly laughed, but was able to silence himself. Keen observation skills, Rider.

"Look, maybe he's right," Rider said softly. "I don't belong here."

"Of course you do!"

"You're a princess, Blondie," he pointed out. "I'm a... a thief. What business do I have making myself at home in the royal palace?"

The King nodded, though no one could see it. At last, Rider was seeing reason.

"Eugene Fitzherbert, if you're thinking about leaving then I'm coming with you."

Rider spoke the King's thoughts. "No! You can't."

"Why not?" She sounded offended.

"Blondie, you're home. This is where you belong."

"I didn't trade one tower for another, Eugene." Her words were spoken with a firmness that Rapunzel's usually feminine, sprightly voice never contained. "Wherever you go, I'll follow. Whether you want me to or not."

The King waited anxiously for Rider's response, but there was none. He watched the shadows at the corner of the hall move closer to one another, embracing, and then a faintly whispered, "_I love you..._" from Rider's lips.

Suddenly, he felt as if he were an intruder on a very private moment. Startled, the King backed away, turning on his heel and sprinting away from the couple as fast as he could.

O*O*O*O*O*O

For the next five days, the King made an effort to pass by the golden vase at least once, and thankfully he did not run into his daughter and the bandit having a heartfelt discussion again. The sound of their whispered conversation had struck a chord with him, but he didn't want to let himself go soft. He would continue to be watchful over Rider, though perhaps not as maliciously.

The glares across the dining table stopped, and Rider seemed to take that as a good sign. He answered the Queen's questions more directly, sat up straighter, even dared to smile in the King's direction once or twice. Rapunzel seemed thrilled, not by her father's quiet acceptance, but by the marginal change in Rider's attitude.

"Eugene took me to the river today," she told her parents over supper.

The Queen smiled. "That's a beautiful area. What did you do there?"

"We had a picnic," Rapunzel said excitedly. "And then I picked some flowers, and Eugene taught me how to make a daisy chain. He's very good at it."

Rider's face turned ten shades of red.

"You're a man of many talents, it seems, Mr. Fitzherbert," the Queen joked kindly, sending him a comforting smile.

"Yes, ma'am," Rider replied with an easy smirk. "Sword fighting, horsemanship, daisy picking... You name it."

Rider may have wormed his way into his wife's heart, but the King would not let his guard down. Rider could not keep this up forever. Sooner or later, his true colors would appear.

One afternoon, as the King walked through the halls, planning on checking the vase once more, he found himself face to face with a frazzled looking Flynn Rider, holding a cloth bag in his arms.

"Rider," he greeted with a stern look. "You're in an awful hurry."

"Yes, your Majesty," replied the thief. "Do you know where Princess Rapunzel is, sir?"

"In the library, I believe."

Rider scurried off, and as soon as he rounded the corner, the King began to follow. Never before was he so glad that the library had no doors.

"Eugene!" his daughters' voice greeted from somewhere in the room, as the King peeked inside from behind the archway. Rapunzel had been curled up in a large arm chair with a book, but now she was on her feet and throwing herself into Rider's arms, the cloth back smooshed between them. Then she jumped back, startled. "It's cold. Is it supposed to be cold?"

The King furrowed his brow. What in the world was she talking about?

"The colder the better," Rider nodded, reaching his hand into the bag and producing a large container. "Let's do this quick, Blondie. Before it melts." Before disregarding the bag, he pulled out two spoons, handing one to Rapunzel.

She opened the container and dipped her spoon in, pulling out a large scoop of vanilla ice cream. She looked at it curiously for a moment, then opened her mouth in preparation to taste it.

"Hold it, Blondie," Rider interrupted. "That'll give you a nasty case of brain freeze."

"Brain freeze?" Rapunzel squeaked, frightened. She dropped the spoon into the container.

Rider chuckled. "Just take a little less, okay? No worries."

Cautiously, she picked up the spoon again, slowly parting her lips and tasting. Then she smiled. "Oh my gosh!"

The King grinned to himself. Watching her discover such simple things was, for lack of a better word, adorable.

When the King walked past the library again half an hour later to check on them, he was shocked to see Rapunzel and Rider laying on the floor on their backs, the empty container and two spoons between them.

Rapunzel held a hand over her stomach. "That was _so_ good."

"Mmmff," the thief moaned, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"What?"

He groaned, throwing an arm over his face. "I'm going to barf."

She sighed. "Me too. But the good kind of barf."

Rider barked out a dry laugh.

"Eugene," Rapunzel whispered, turning her head. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't want to be sick with anyone else." Reaching out, Rider took her hand, and together they turned their heads toward the ornately painted ceiling.

"Mmm," he hummed contentedly, his eyes closed. "Love you..."

Rapunzel looked toward him with flushed cheeks and a close lipped smiled, her face glowing with adoration, but remained silent.

The King pursed his lips. He'd heard Rider declare himself multiple times now, but not once had Rapunzel returned the sentiment.

O*O*O*O*O*O

It wasn't until the seventeenth day after Rapunzel's return that the thing the King had been waiting for happened. The golden vase was gone from the table.

"Aha!" the King shouted, racing through the halls toward his wife's parlor. He burst in unannounced. "He's done it! You see? Once a thief, always a thief. The vase is―,"

"Here," his wife finished, frowning at him as she waved her hand toward the gold, jewel encrusted vase siting on the end table beside her. "I think there has been enough speculation. Eugene Fitzherbert's intentions are noble."

"Why did you move it?" he stuttered, unsure of what to say.

"My dear," the Queen said, her voice hard. "Eugene is here to stay. You must trust him. He will be a Prince Consort, a ruler of our Kingdom."

"Are you certain of that?" asked the King. "You are so sure she loves him, but she never tells him so."

"Rapunzel has spoken to me," the Queen replied. "She's afraid she does not know what love is."

He stared slack jawed at his wife. "What do you mean? She's confided in you?"

The Queen nodded. "Rapunzel thought her bond with the witch, Gothel, was love. Naturally, she is hesitant to think she loves anything at the moment." She looked at her folded hands, doleful.

The King cleared his throat. "But that boy, Rider, he―,"

"Eugene is determined to show her what real love is. And who better? He gave his life for her."

"Has he told you this himself?" he asked, doubtful.

"Yes," the Queen replied offhandedly. "He told me this himself. And I think perhaps you should apologize to him."

"Apologize?"

She smirked. "You were right. Mr. Fitzherbert _is _smarter than you give him credit for. He's been perfectly aware of your trap with the vase."

Grumbling, the King left the parlor.

O*O*O*O*O*O

It was after eleven o'clock that the King gathered the dignity to submit to his wife's demands. He was pointed by a servant to one of the palace's many sitting rooms, where Rapunzel and her beau were supposedly reading together.

He would make it quick. He'd call Rider to his drawing room, and then he'd give him a stern talking to. He'd tell Rider to treat his daughter right, and to keep his hands off the valuables, and maybe somewhere in there he's disguise an apology.

But when he quietly opened the door, he found the room dark, only lit by the warm, flickering orange glow of the fireplace. Not proper lighting for reading at all.

Rapunzel lay across the length of the sofa, peaceful and silent. Flynn Rider's cheek was resting on her shoulder, his nose nuzzled into her collar, obviously fast asleep. His arms were loosely holding her torso. Rapunzel smiled at him softly as she combed her fingers through his hair.

At the sound of the door creaking, she looked up. "Father," she whispered, surprised. Her face flamed with heat, but she could not move herself into a more proper position. Rider's weight was pinning her down.

The King looked pointedly at Rider. "You've worn him out."

Rapunzel smiled, glad to recount the days events. "We went into the village and bought new paints, and then we went to the bookstore." She pointed at their books, now laying open across the arm of the sofa. "Some of the townspeople were playing their instruments, and I got Eugene to dance with me. He said he didn't dance, but I thought he did fine."

The King laughed, imagining his daughter twirling Rider in circles.

"And then we played tag with some of the children in the main square. And Eugene said he'd teach me how to open a locked window from the outside... but, oh, I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

He chuckled again heartily. "Go easy on the boy. He needs time to breathe."

Rapunzel smiled again, looking down at Eugene's face. "Yes, father."

Then the King cleared his thought, looked at his daughter's eyes, so much like her mothers'. "I love you, Rapunzel. Very much."

Rapunzel's grin faltered for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "I know," she said softly.

"Good night."

"Good night," Rapunzel replied, looking pleased.

As the King wandered back to his bedchambers, he sighed. Perhaps he'd talk to Fitzherbert in the morning.


	3. The Ball

A chapter dedicated to the Queen, rather than her silly, paranoid husband.

O*O*O*O*O*O

Rapunzel curled a finger around a lock of dark brown hair and pulled it down flat. Green eyes staring intently at the mirror, she watched as it bounced back into its spot in her spiky do.

She missed her long blonde locks terribly — not that she'd ever let Eugene know. She didn't mean to be ungrateful or vain; she was glad to be free of the weight on her head, the annoyance of getting tangled up, having to brush each strand for hours… But it was so hard to get used to this new choppy cut, especially when she reached out for a strand to run her fingers through idly, only to graze her nails against her shoulder.

Sighing to herself, she reached for her crown and toyed with it for a moment, watching the sunbeams reflect from the crystals. It really was a beautiful item— no wonder Flynn Rider had coveted it. Smiling to herself, she sat it atop her head and pushed it into place.

_Perfect_, she thought. She looked in the mirror again, smoothing out the fabric of her long purple gown, pulling at the lace sleeves, tugging a little to tighten the ribbon at her waist. She lifted the bottom of her skirt, gazing down at the little beaded slippers on her feet.

_Knock knock_

Rapunzel turned her head as her mother opened the door, holding the fabric of her voluminous skirt in one hand. "You look enchanting."

"Thank you." Rapunzel smiled shyly and pulled at her skirt again. "I'm not used to so many layers. How can you move around so gracefully? I feel like I'll trip."

The Queen grinned maternally, coming to stand before her daughter. "Funny you say that. I just paid a visit to Eugene, and he had a very similar complaint about his suit. Though he was much more verbose…"

Rapunzel turned back to the mirror as her mother moved behind her, smoothing the tulle in her skirt to flatten it out. "Eugene isn't much for palace life," she sighed dolefully, a bit worried.

"He's a breath of fresh air after years of stuffy nobles and gaudy princes. And there's never a dull moment when he's around, is there?" She laughed. "You certainly bring out the adventure in each other. You two are a recipe for mischief! I shudder to think of the scandal the two of you will cause tonight."

Rapunzel grinned sheepishly. "We don't mean to cause trouble, honestly. It just… finds us."

The Queen shook her head. "Like I said, you two are a breath of fresh air. And Eugene certainly keeps your father on the edge of his seat."

Rapunzel frowned at the thought of her father and Eugene's relationship, if you could call it that. Since her return to the palace, they'd had an uneasy truce. They mostly ignored each other, with the exception of the Kings' glares across the dinner table. Eugene had confided more than once that it made him feel extremely unwelcome.

"If he would just lighten up a little," Rapunzel moaned. "Then Maybe Eugene would feel more comfortable and agree to those tutors you suggested."

"He's warming up to him. _Slowly_," she added at Rapunzel's snort. "To be honest, I think he secretly likes him." She smirked and winked at her in the mirror's reflection.

"Mom!"

"It's true!" the Queen protested. "He's been working up the courage to speak with Eugene, but he's too prideful! Don't worry, Rapunzel, it's as plain as day that you love each other, even to your father. Eugene's changed and he knows it."

Rapunzel pursed her lips. It was comforting to know that her father accepted them, but it did little to ease her worries.

"There," the Queen announced, stepping back. "Is that better?"

Rapunzel twirled around once in her skirt. "Yes! Thank you." She opened her arms and wrapped her mother in a quick hug.

"I brought something for you," said the Queen. She held out her hand, revealing a simple silver necklace with a sparkly pink gem pendant. "It's been passed down for generations. I've always known it would be yours one day."

"Oh, mom," Rapunzel whispered, taking the chain and examining it. "It's so beautiful."

"Let me help you put it on," she replied, stepping behind her again. Rapunzel held out the ends of the chain for her mother to clasp around her neck.

Rapunzel touched the pendant, feeling the cool metal against her skin. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." The Queen smiled down at her daughter. "You look exactly like me when I was your age." Stepping back, she waved a hand toward the door. "Go on. Everyone is waiting for you."

O*O*O*O*O*O

Rapunzel rushed through the palaces' corridors, holding her skirt in her hands. At last, she found a dashingly dressed Eugene waiting for her behind the ornate double doors of the ball room.

"You're late," he accused, grinning charmingly at her. "And you look... very beautiful."

She rolled her eyes, a habit she'd picked up from him.

"Ready, Blondie?" he whispered as she hooked her arm around his.

She smirked. "Not at all."

Eugene nodded toward the royal guard, who pulled open the double doors. "Presenting, Princess Rapunzel, heir of His Majesty King William the Fourth and Queen Ariana, ruler of Corona... and her— um, escort, Eugene Fitzherbert."

Eugene thinned his lips, amused. No 'savior of the beloved princess' or 'returner of the royal crown'? Not even 'dashing, swashbuckling ex-bandit'? He smiled at Rapunzel wryly, pulling her down the marble staircase.

The gathering was much larger than she had expected. There must have been at least seventy men and women, all of noble blood, paused from their conversations to watch the princess's entrance. Rapunzel felt her face flare, and her grip on Eugene's arm tightened infinitesimally.

The pair walked to the middle of the ballroom, positioning themselves just as they had rehearsed. Rapunzel laid her left palm on his shoulder, holding out her other hand for him to grasp. She felt his arm wrap around her back. The music began, a softly played minuet from the orchestra in the corner. Eugene pulled her in a quick circle, and then they began to twirl around the ball room.

"See?" Rapunzel said, delighted. "You're a good dancer."

He grinned smugly. "Only when forced."

To their relief, another couple stepped onto the dance floor, quickly followed by a few others.

"Father's impressed," she whispered. She nodded her chin toward the figures of the King and Queen as they watched the dancing crowd from their thrones.

Eugene stole a quick glance as they spun past them. "Yeah, well, he doesn't have much faith in me. Probably figured I'd end up punching someone noble in the face or flooding the palace."

Rapunzel sighed. "Maybe if you agreed to the tutors, he'd think you were more invested in all of this."

"Invested?" Their conversation paused as he took her hand and held it up so she could spin under his arm. Then she pressed back against his chest. "Invested in what? You? Or all of this royalty and manners nonsense?"

She frowned. "Both."

He furrowed his brow, aggravated. "Blondie, I love you. I was willing to die for you. How much more invested can I get?"

"I know you love me," she replied, trying to hide her frustration. "But it's not me you're trying to impress."

The orchestra came to a large crescendo. Eugene followed with the crowd of dancers as he grabbed Rapunzel's waist and lifted her off the floor, pulling her in a quick half turn before setting her back down and continuing to move across the room.

"Look," he surmised. "I'm not going to learn how to bow and cross my legs when I sit and drink tea with my pinky out just to get your dads' approval. If we're happy together, that should be enough for him."

"But it's not just about us being happy! You're going to be a prince!"

Eugene's face froze, his feet stumbling over the next dance move and causing Rapunzel to trip. He quickly scooped her back up and covered their mistake with another lavish twirl.

"Can we not talk about that?" he whispered.

"Ugh!" Rapunzel huffed, pulling back so their was a modest distance between them.

The orchestra came to a grand sforzando. Eugene and Rapunzel gladly let go of each other to clap for the musicians with the rest of the nobles.

"Where are you going?" Eugene called after her, watching as swiftly turned and stomped off.

"To get a drink!"

A chubby man with a thick curly mustache turned around and raised his eyebrows at the ruckus. Wonderful, Eugene thought sardonically.

He chased after Rapunzel, who had grabbed a random glass of liquid from one of the servants.

"Whoa," he called after her. "Blondie, you don't want that."

She glared at him. "I can do what I want."

"That's rum! Trust me, you won't like it."

She huffed, her cheeks reddening. "I am so sick of people telling me what to do!" Then she threw back her head and gulped down half of the drink at once.

Eugene held his arms out as Rapunzel coughed into her elbow. She turned way from him, a bit embarrassed, but wanting more than anything to prove him wrong. She gulped down the rest of the glass in another gulp. The liquid was hot in her throat, and it made her feel a little fuzzy. How odd.

Eugene resisted an arrogant _told you so_. "Blondie?" he asked.

She shook her head, marching away from him and back into the crowd of nobles. He watched as she was immediately surrounded by a crowd of Dukes and Viscounts, all eager to meet the legendary lost princess. One of them handed her a glass of wine, which she gulped down quickly as she struggled to answer everyone's questions. Eugene ran a hand through his hair. Oh boy.

"Why aren't you with her?" a voice asked, just behind him.

He turned to see the Queen, watching him with raised eyebrows.

He twisted his lips. "We had a little disagreement."

The Queen nodded, not very surprised. "I could tell. By the time you finished dancing, you both looked like you had eaten something particularly bitter."

Eugene hated that she was so intuitive. He felt like, try as he might, he could hide nothing from the Queen's observation. And so, he was persuaded into telling the honest truth. "She thinks I should be more serious about my _princely duties_."

In a most un-queen-like fashion, she shrugged. "Good manners and perfect posture aren't what makes a capable prince."

"That's what I've been trying to tell her—!"

"But it certainly doesn't hurt," the Queen finished. She looked at Eugene with bright green eyes, so much like Rapunzel's, but sharp enough to make him feel exposed. "I think you have the ability to become a great ruler. Despite your past, there is something in you that is fundamentally _good_. You believe in justice and fairness. That's more than I can say for most of the people in this room. How many Lords do you think would be willing to give up their title if it was for the common good?"

He scanned the crowd. Most of the men and women were dressed gaudily, walking across the room with stiff backs, their expressions unreadable. Ugh, he'd always hated nobles. They were so vain and shallow!

"But no matter how good your intentions, how many people do you think would accept a thief turned prince who behaved like a commoner and acted like he didn't care? Forgive my frankness," the Queen added.

He'd never really thought of it before. The fact that he was here in the first place, trying to fit in amongst these people, was unreal. He'd been the lowest of the low for as long as he remembered. "I'm not meant for this. I'm just—" He gestured down at himself, as if that was proof enough.

She smiled. "You're meant for Rapunzel." Like the mother he had never had, the Queen laid a hand maternally on his shoulder. "You and she are made for each other. And you were destined to become a Prince Consort."

He hated the "D" word. _Destiny._ It seemed so far fetched. An orphaned bandit, destined to be prince? Outrageous! But, he had to admit, believing that he was destined for Rapunzel felt much more realistic. She'd saved him. And he knew he'd do anything for her.

Even learn to rule a country...

"Thank you," he said earnestly, bowing to the Queen. She smiled knowingly, waving a hand in the direction of daughter.

Eugene spotted Rapunzel, still swarmed by the crowd. She had another glass in her hand. How many of those had she had? He watches as she stumbled over the bottom of her dress, laughing as she straightened herself by putting her hand on the man in front of her.

"Oh, dear," the Queen gasped. "Perhaps you should step in?"

Nodding, he raced after her.

"Blondie!" he called, diving into the mob of fat men and huge hoop skirts. Someone's velvet jacket pressed against his cheek as he pushed his way through the crowd. He grabbed onto the edge of a lacy purple sleeve and pulled, only to find that he had latched onto a grumpy old woman with curly white hair. She swatted at him with her fan with a furious, "Why, I've never!"

Then he spotted the glint of her crown a few feet away. Pushing through the nobles, he found her being pawed at by some pimply looking prince with greasy black hair. Eugene pushed through the last of the guests and wrapped an arm around her tiny waist, bringing her against his chest. "There you are, sweetie!" he said cheerfully, glaring daggers at the prince.

Rapunzel kicked her foot against his leg. "Go away! I'm talking to Prince Jonathon!" She stumbled over her words sloppily.

"The lady has made herself clear," the greasy prince added suavely, wagging a manicured finger in Eugene's face. "Why don't you fetch us something to drink, peasant?"

He resisted the urge to pin the prick to the floor. "Come on, Blondie!" Practically lifting her off the floor, he dragged her away from the audacious prince and out of the crowd. Satisfied that they had room to breathe now, he set her back on the ground.

"Eugene! Why won't you leave me alone?" she slurred, steadying herself by putting her hands against his shoulders.

He ran a hand through his hair. How did he reason with a furious, drunk princess? Summoning a bit of his Flynn Rider charm, he leaned forward so his face was close to hers. "Because I love you, Blondie," he declared earnestly. "I'll take the lessons, okay? I'll learn how to be a prince or whatever... and I'll work harder to impress your father. Anything you want. Okay?"

Rapunzel looked up at him, her eyes suddenly glassy. Eugene blanched. Oh no, not the reaction he had expected. "Really?" she whispered breathily.

He swallowed heavily. "Really."

Suddenly, Rapunzel was jumping into his arms for a hug. He stumbled backward, trying to regain his vertigo, when he knocked into something solid.

"Ah!"

Eugene set Rapunzel down in time to see the extremely obtuse, mustached Earl fall backwards, clutching his nose. It all happened in a span of five seconds. The Earl fell into the table of refreshments, snapping the wood in half under his immense weight. Little appetizers scattered everywhere, some flying across the room and landing in peoples' hair. Women started to scream, swatting at them like they were bugs. Then jugs of wine and rum fell to the ground, breaking into a million pieces with a loud crack. Nobles began to cry out and shout as a sticky flood of rum and wine rushed across the floor, wetting their shoes.

The King's voice echoed across the hall.

"RIDER!"

O*O*O*O*O

Well, that may be a little set back for the King and Eugene.

Review if you can :)


	4. The Lessons

As always, I apologize profusely for any spelling or grammar errors. Try as I might, I can never catch all of them when I reread.

I hope you like it!

O*O*O*O*O*O

Eugene's lessons were a motley array of studies deemed _princely_, ranging from politics, economics, mathematics, and humanities to courtesy and diplomacy, the art of persuasion and charisma, and ―his personal favorites― riding and swordsmanship. Those, at least, were things he could do. And do pretty well, if he did say so himself.

During his first riding lesson, his tutor ―Will or Bill or something like that― droned on for half an hour about the correct technique for adjusting the saddle. When the time finally came for Eugene to try it himself, Will/Bill handed him the leather bulk with an ominous, "Don't be discouraged if it takes a few tries."

Eugene smiled a bit too widely when he attached the saddle to the black stallion in less than a minute, leaving Will/Bill sputtering at him with a dropped jaw.

"I was a thief, not an imbecile ," Eugene declared, sliding his foot into a stirrup and hoisting himself onto the creature like a pro. Grabbing the reins, he took off in an impressive canter.

For the rest of the two hours, Eugene amused himself with correcting his tutor's uptight style, declaring that sitting so straight would reduce his speed and prancing so gaudily around the ring was completely impractical. By the end of his lesson, Will/Bill was red faced and stomping towards the castle to inform the King that he thought 'Eugene would get along just _fine_ without this particular lesson.' Reading between the lines, Eugene guessed that what he really meant was 'no amount of money is worth dealing with this pompous buffoon.'

Swordsmanship, too, resulted in the eventual quitting of his tutor. Eugene heard him marching through the halls to leave the palace after his meeting with the King, muttering under his breath, "_My_ grip on the handle too tight! The _nerve_!"

Okay, maybe he'd been a bit cocky, but there was no way he could have stayed silent through the instructor's lesson. His tutor had learned swordsmanship from a great master, but Eugene had lived it. When a palace guard was pointing a blade at your throat, he doubted that the stylish swivel of his heel or tilt of his chin would have mattered.

His arithmetic lessons went much differently, though the results were just as surprising. His teacher, Pierre de Archidemes the Fourth, presented him with a '_basic equation'_ involving three variables and pi symbols. "Find _x,_" he demanded.

Eugene stared at the problem intently for thirty seconds before drawing a bold circle around the letter _x _in the original equation. "Found it." He pushed the paper away with a self-satisfied smirk.

Pierre was unamused. "Incorrect," he spat. "_X_ is equal to _zero_, Mr. Fitzherbert."

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "That's impossible."

Somehow, Pierre seemed to take that as a compliment of sorts. "Not impossible, Mr. Fitzherbert, just basic arithmetic. Once I've whipped you into shape, you'll solving for derivatives in no time―"

"No," Eugene interrupted, holding the paper in front of Pierre's chubby face. "I mean _x_ _can't_ equal zero. It's impossible."

"Mr. Fitzherbert, I assure you―!"

"X is on the bottom of the fraction. Anything divided by zero is undefined. It's impossible." Eugene waved the paper in front of his spectacles.

Sputtering, Pierre de Archidemes the Fourth grabbed the sheet of paper away. "I think it's about time for your _manners_ lessons, Mr. Fitzherbert."

In manners lessons, Eugene fell asleep in his seat, earning himself a whack on the head.

O*O*O*O*O*O

Eugene burst into Rapunzel's room after another 'educational' day and collapsed onto the sofa, throwing an arm over his face. "This is ridiculous!"

Rapunzel didn't even bother looking up from her spot in the middle of her bed, where she was sitting indian style and bent over a sketchbook. Three colored pencils were shoved behind her ears, sticking out from her brown hair. "It's not that bad."

"It's horrible!" he insisted. Sitting up, he threw his arms dramatically into the air. "These tutors are conceited idiots!"

Rapunzel set her sketchbook down. "I've learned lots of interesting things! Did you know that our economy is dependent on a financial contribution from the individual that assists community expenses?" Obviously, she'd memorized that line straight from a textbook.

Eugene raised an eyebrow.

She swiftly changed the topic. "What do you think?" She held up her drawing, an outline of a vase and pot with a bare background. The vase seemed oddly disproportional and the pot was crooked.

He furrowed his brow. "This is different than your usual stuff."

"Oh! Henri Renoir suggested that I practice a more realistic style." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Henri Renoir?"

"My art tutor," she clarified.

With that, Eugene threw himself onto his back again and groaned.

O*O*O*O*O*O

"How were your classes today, Rapunzel?" the King asked from across the long dining table.

She looked up from her bowl of soup and smiled. Only Eugene could detect the fake crinkle in the corners of her eyes. "Madame Regina taught me about parliament. And in my art lesson Master Renoir showed me how to properly shade."

Eugene cringed. Rapunzel's art work was getting worse by the day. It was becoming harder to find ways to brush off his opinions of them when she asked. Yesterday he'd had to resort to a pathetic, _"Wow, that's really something."_

"You take after your mother," continued the King. "She's a virtuoso with a paint brush."

The Queen took a delicate sip of wine. "That's sweet of you."

"And you, Fitzherbert?" The King glared down the table at Eugene. Well, at least he'd finally taken to calling him by his real name. "How were your lessons?" His disinterested tone implied that the only reason he was asking in the first place had something to do with his wife.

Eugene played with his spoon, slopping his soup around the bowl. "They were _stupendous_," he deadpanned.

The Queen coughed behind her palm.

"I see your manners tutor hasn't covered _sarcasm_ yet," grumbled the King.

After an extremely awkward three courses eaten mostly in silence, the royal family parted ways for the evening. The King went to his study and the Queen to her parlor. Eugene followed after Rapunzel as she headed towards the library.

The first thing she did was scan the shelves for books, pulling out a few at a time and adding them to the pile in her arms.

"What are you looking for?" Eugene asked, walking over to the oversized armchair and making himself at home.

"Looking for art books." She stood on her toes, trying to grab for something on a higher shelf, but it was out of her reach.

Sighing, he stood up and moved behind her, easily plucking the book from it's spot. "Here." He offered it to her with a small smirk.

Rapunzel's face turned pink. "Thanks." She darted off to the loveseat and dropped her mountain of books on the floor, taking one of the thicker publications from the top of the pile and sitting down with it in her lap.

Eugene sat beside her. Leaning over, he could see that the paintings in the book were all of lifelike landscapes. Very stiff. Very _contained_. Very _not_ Rapunzel.

"Hey," he exclaimed, trying to distract her. "You want to go into the gardens? Or we could visit Max, take him for a ride?"

Her eye stayed glued to the page, her brow furrowed. "Mhhmm..." she murdered offhandedly. "Maybe later. I have to study."

Eugene blinked. Was he just... blown off? For a book filled with snooty pictures?

If Eugene ever met Henri Renoir, he was going to punch the guys' lights out.

O*O*O*O*O*O

Eugene and Rapunzel attended their lesson on socioeconomics together. Right off the bat, the tutor sent them to sit at opposite sides of the room's long table, glaring at them down the end of his long, crooked nose. To his great displeasure, he watched as Eugene immediately made himself comfortable by sprawling his legs out and folding his arms languidly behind his head. Rapunzel, on the other hand, hunched over her journal with a quill pen, ready to take notes.

"Socioeconomics," began the tutor with enthusiasm, "is an _umbrella_ term. Socioeconomics may broadly refer to the use of economics in the study of society. Or we may speak of social economics more _narrowly_. For example, we may examine _social _norms in society, such as marriage, and how it effects cash flow and the consumer market..."

On and on the tutor went. Eugene glanced across the table at Rapunzel, who was looking quite bored herself. She slumped over in her chair, tapping the tip of her quill against her parchment.

All of this studying and '_royal behavior'_ was sucking the life out of her. He knew she only wanted to please her parents, but couldn't they see that Rapunzel didn't fit the typical princess mold? She was wild and fun loving and adventurous... not the kind to study study study all day long about consumer markets.

As the tutor drone on, Eugene began quietly tearing his sheet of parchment into little strips and crumbling them into balls. He flicked a few toward Pascal, who had been dozing off on the arm of Rapunzel's chair. He woke up with a start and scurried onto Rapunzel's shoulder like a soldier being bombed.

Rapunzel covered a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. The tutor shot a disapproving look in her direction, pausing in his lecture for a moment to glare a warning before continuing his pacing around the room. "... combined total measure of a person's work experience and of an individual's or family's economic and social position relative to others..."

Rapunzel shot Eugene a warning look. He responded by flicking a paper ball at her nose and hitting his target perfectly.

Rapunzel blinked in shock. "Hey!"

The tutor stomped his foot. "Princess Rapunzel, if you'd please stop your shenanigans?"

She shrank back into her seat at once, reaching for her quill again.

He felt a bit bad about that one. Perhaps it wasn't best to get the princess into trouble. So he straightened himself in his seat and tried to follow Rapunzel's example. He grabbed a quill and began scribbling terms onto what was left of his parchment, having no idea what any of it meant.

He was able to last ten minutes before he could bear it no longer. He glanced at Rapunzel out of the corner of his eye. She was still taking notes, but her eyes kept blinking heavily, like she was struggling to stay awake.

Eugene scrawled another term onto his paper in his messy chicken scratch. Something about the parliamentary process.

Rapunzel leaned her her head against her hand, propped up on her elbow. Her eyelids fluttered.

Oh no. He'd already gotten her in trouble twice. The last thing she needed was another tirade about the 'vital importance of her lessons' and her 'grand responsibility as future Queen' if she was caught.

Eugene looked toward the tutor. He was still droning about political participation, pacing back and forth, too busy sticking his nose in the air to notice that the princess was falling asleep.

Quietly, he folded his notes in a little paper glider, just like when he was a kid. He pulled his hand back to give it some momentum and the released, watching as it sailed across the table and smacked into Rapunzel's cheek.

"Ah!" Her eyes snapped open, the paper glider falling on the table in front of her.

"Princess Rapunzel, enough is enough with your rude behavior!" The tutor materialized over her shoulder, reaching forward and grabbing Eugene's folded notes. "Making toys during your classes! I will be speaking to your father about this!" Taking the glider with him, he stomped off, slamming the door behind him.

Rapunzel's eyes were watery. She folded her arms on the table and pressed her head into the crook of her elbow.

Eugene cleared his throat. "That was probably my fault."

"No," she muttered into her sleeve. "It's me. I can't do this! I can't."

He stood from his seat to go comfort her, but she was faster. Rapunzel pushed herself up from her chair and took off towards the door, flying past him in a blur. He turned, only to see the end of her skirt disappear as the door slammed shut again.

O*O*O*O*O*O

Why was the castle so _huge_?

Eugene wandered the halls, searching fruitlessly for a sign that he was at least in the right wing of the palace. But everything was like an endless maze. Hallways in every direction, hundreds of doors to choose from. It was driving him mad.

A guard glared at him suspiciously as he walked past. "Where you headed, Rider?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "We'll, originally, the King's study. I may have taken a wrong turn..." He shrugged.

"End of the hall," the guard scowled. "Through the gallery."

"Oh." He offered a slight grin. "Uh, thanks."

The guard turned his chin away, reassuming his upright position.

The gallery was a large room, nearly every inch of wall covered by portraits of different styles and sizes. Eugene stopped for a moment, gaping at all of them. They were massive and ostentatious and... was that one framed in gold?

"Some of these portraits date back twenty generations."

Eugene flinched at the sound of the King's deep voice, but recovered quickly, pulling at his collar. "They're..."

"Quite garish," the King finished for him. "But they were painted by my ancestors. These painting have been traditions for centuries. My wife's is just there, beside the door." He pointed to a smaller canvas, it's frame obviously newer than the rest. Like the others, the Queen had created a landscape. The brush strokes were thin and precise, and the overall painting was surprisingly realistic.

"It's excellent," he complimented awkwardly, rocking back on his heels.

"Yes, it is," the King agreed. "My wife brought Rapunzel here last week. These portraits are a symbol of the royal legacy. I expect her own portrait to hang beside her mother's one day."

Suddenly, it all made sense. Rapunzel's sudden obsession with classic art, her worrisome amount of studying and fretting about lessons. The King was trying to force her into some mold of what a princess should be, when obviously Rapunzel was as far from the norm as possible.

The King cleared his throat. "Now, why don't we go into my office and sit? I have a feeling you haven't just come to admire the artwork."

"Uh, no, sir." Eugene followed behind him as the went into the King's private room. It was smaller and darker, his wooden desk being the center of the room. It was covered in papers and scrolls. The King took a seat behind it, gesturing at the chair opposite him for Eugene.

"What can I do for you?" the King asked, watching him suspiciously.

Eugene cut to the chase. "It's about Rapunzel."

"Ah."

"Yes, well," he sputtered, uncharacteristically nervous. "She's been under a lot of pressure."

"Understandable."

"And I thought maybe she could use a day off."

"A day off?" the King repeated. "From what? Being a princess?"

Eugene shifted in his seat under the King's glare. "Well... yeah."

"Fitzherbert, you really have no authority to be making such a request―"

"She's stressed," he interrupted. "It's not good for her."

"And what makes you think you are my daughter's caretaker? If she's stressed, she can talk to me about it herself."

Did the King not realize she was afraid of him? For heaven's sake, she'd burst into tears after the tutor threatened to speak with him about her behavior.

"Rapunzel needs to attend her lessons," the King insisted. "As do you, Mr. Fitzherbert. If you want to continue living under my roof, I expect that you not make a mockery of your tutors."

He couldn't resist. "With all due respect, sir, they were making mockeries enough of themselves."

The King slammed his fist onto the table. "Enough, Rider!" Eugene frowned at the use of his alias name. "What are your intentions towards my daughter?"

Eugene's jaw dropped, the sudden change in topic throwing him for a loop. "Uh..." He ran a hand through his hair. "Things are still pretty new, sir... We're not in any rush."

The King narrowed his eyes. "You've told her you love her," he accused.

"I do," he answered immediately, his ears turning pink.

"And do you intend to marry her?"

Eugene blinked. "Well, uh... yeah, I guess. One day." He tried to imagine Rapunzel in a white gown. The thought was both frightening and strangely tantalizing. "If she'll say yes, that is."

The King thinned his lips unhappily. "I strongly suspect that she will. And that will make you a Prince Consort, Fitzherbert."

"Yes, sir."

"Which means you will be attending your lessons and not behaving foolishly."

Eugene paused. Obviously, he'd lost the battle there. "Yes, sir."

"My wife trusts you. She assures me that you will make a great ruler."

Eugene's eyes flashed with pleasure.

"I, however, have no faith in you."

His grin faltered.

"Rapunzel will continue to be tutored regularly," the King went on. "It's important that she learns how to care for her Kingdom. Stress is something she'll have to grow used to. Lord knows I have. Now, if that's all, you may see yourself out."

"Wait―," Eugene interrupted.

The King lifted an eyebrow.

"May I make a suggestion about Rapunzel's tutoring?"

The King grimaced unhappily. "If you must. But that doesn't mean I'm going to listen."

O*O*O*O*O*O

"Try adding a thicker line to the contour... yes, just like that. Wonderful!"

"Wow! I never would have thought of that! Hmm... which shade of blue do you think is right for the water?"

"_You're_ the artist, my dear. Choose the color that feels right."

"This one. The cornflower blue color."

"Perfect."

The King listened in the hall to the sounds of Rapunzel and her new art teacher. After half an hour of listening to Fitzherbert's complaints regarding the world renowned artist, Henri Renoir, he'd finally agreed to giving this new tutor a shot. At first he'd been flabbergasted. Eugene's suggestion for a replacement was a commoner, an older woman whom Eugene remembered coming to paint with the orphans when he was younger. "_One of the only good memories about that place,"_ Fitzherbert had mumbled.

Rapunzel skipped out from the studio, interrupting his thoughts. She was holding a small canvas in her grip, the painting facing her chest so that he only caught a few splashes of color as she moved.

"Father!" she exclaimed, beaming towards him. "Thank you for my new art tutor! I'm having so much fun!" Before he could form a response, Rapunzel was wrapping her arms around him tightly, the wet canvas only just not touching back. Then she let go, her smile even wider. "I have to go show Eugene!" She began running down the hall, but not before throwing another grin over her shoulder. "I love you!"

The King's smile faltered.

How strange. The first time his daughter said I love you to him... It felt... miraculous.

He could hear Rapunzel's voice around the corner. "Eugene, what do you think?"

"Blondie, it's stupendous."

The King grinned for the rest of the day. He'd never admit Eugene Fitzherbert had anything to do with it.

O*O*O*O*O*O

And that's a wrap. Hope you liked my... four-shot, I guess I'll call it.

I'm sure I'll be writing more things soon enough. Keep your eyes peeled.

And thank you so much for reading! Leave a review if you can.


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